Lover's Lane
by VioletNimbrethil
Summary: A new exchange student provides some flavor in the caretaker's boring life. RxR please.
1. Chapter 1

-1It was her first day at a new school, and nothing tickled her more than being the new girl. She was every teacher's worst nightmare. Rebellious, smart-assed, and promiscuous as the day was long. She was Lane Dappleport and she was a witch. The sorting the previous night had gone over well, she thought. She was in Slytherin, her mother and father's house when they attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her motto was "Give me a reason." People usually didn't. At breakfast she ignored the loudmouth prats sitting at the table. She wanted some fun, but not the juvenile pranks that these wankers pulled. When a first year knocked into her elbow, she stood up forcefully and left the table, muttering, "Bloody hell, you fucking wankers. You want fun? I'll give you fun." And with that, she was like a woman on a mission. Her first class was potions with the Slytherin head of house. She feigned attention for awhile, the asked to be excused. She made her way to the first floor girls lavatory, took out her muggle "magic" marker, then began to write rude swear words and draw crude pictures on the walls and mirrors. For an added touch, she included several students and faculty members names in her works of "art."

On the way back to class, (which she was taking her time) she ran across a young Hufflepuff first year. "Boo!" She yelled loudly, causing the girl to drop her books, spilling ink and parchment everywhere. She cackled hysterically and walked a tad bit faster. The noise would draw attention, and she didn't want to be caught just yet. Small time vandalism was not the worst of her crimes. She was also a well known arsonist at her old school, and petty thief. She didn't steal because she wanted the stuff. She stole because she could. Her family life was troubled. But then again, these days, whose wasn't? She was mentally, physically and sexually abused, all before the time she was seven. Due to a selective memory, she couldn't recall any facts from that time period. So no one knew why Lane acted the way she did.

The caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, was patrolling the corridor where her class was located. "What are you doing out of class?" He demanded.

"I had to use the lavatory, _Sir." _She mocked his authority. His face went from pale to beet red in five seconds.

"What were you doing in the lavatory?" Filch asked.

"I believe that is a very personal question." Lane replied, turning on her heels to return to potions class.

"Stop right there, Miss. Peeves just came out of the girls loo and said that a student was drawing rude words and pictures on the walls. He said the student looked just like you." Filch's breath came at a wheeze.

"Oh, really? Now couldn't that just be the testimony of an ornery poltergeist looking to get me in trouble?" Lane shot back, furious that she was caught so quick. Usually she got to sit back and enjoy the confusion of the teachers as to who the culprit really was.

"It's a shame they don't allow us to spank the students for smarting off to a staff member." Filch grumbled.

"Yes, it is a shame." Lane agreed, to get a rise out of Mr. Filch.

He didn't hear her retort, but continued on. "So if I send Professor McGonagall in to the lavatory there will be no writing on the walls?" He demanded.

Lane didn't answer, but stood thinking. She was thinking that she had found her new victim for the year. "Do what you want. I have to be in class, thank you." She left before he could say another word.

That afternoon, Lane was called to Filch's office. "What's the matter?" Lane asked coolly.

"We have testimony from both Moaning Myrtle and Peeves that you were the vandal this morning." Filch said, scratching Mrs. Norris behind her tufted ears.

"Really? Looks like you caught me red-handed." She sat in the chair opposite Filch's desk. As she sat, he couldn't help notice the rise of her skirt, which rose due to the fact that she wore it five inches shorter than anyone else. Her patent leather Mary Jane style shoes caught the light of Filch's office as she crossed her legs. Her chest strained against the buttons of her school provided uniform, and the top three buttons had been undone, revealing the soft line of her cleavage whenever Filch looked down. Her silver and green tie hung limply around her neck. It was warm in the office, so Lane removed her robes. Filch scooted Mrs. Norris off his lap and proceeded to fill out a detention form.

"You will serve detention with me for a week. Your first will be tonight, after dinner. You'll be scrubbing the walls of that bathroom." Lane was no stranger to detentions, so she took it all in stride. "I want you here at 7:00 sharp." Lane stood up and grabbed her robes off of the back of the chair, briefly flashing Filch with the smallest glimpse of her panties.

"I guess I'll see you then_, Mr. Filch_." She purred his name and he felt his legs go numb.


	2. Chapter 2

She giggled as she made her way back to the common room. Flinging herself down on an overstuffed black leather divan, she sighed. Nothing like a good detention, she thought. She smiled as she thought about what easy prey he had been, what easy prey they all were. No one at Hogwarts had ever met a student as rebellious as her. Even in his younger days, He Who Must Not Be Named was a snotty little brown noser. Much like that red haired weasel, Percy. He was forever skulking around the common room entrance, waiting to pounce on a Slytherin, to catch them doing something wrong. The entrance swung open, and Draco Malfoy stalked in, looking pleased with himself as usual.

"Hello." He eyed her casually, like a panther eyeing its prey.

"Hi." She said simply.

"Where did you go during Potions? Snape was furious when you didn't return." Draco sat in a chair across from Lane.

She sat up, pulling her skirt down to cover her knees. "I went to the bathroom. Then I got a detention. I'm rather proud of myself. I'll probably get another one from Snape though. My, my appointment book is filing up quickly." Lane ran her fingers through her auburn hair.

"Are you coming to dinner?" He asked.

"Maybe." Lane wasn't much on the whole group thing. Her old school was set up café style, where the students could sit and eat when and where they wanted. "Why do you care?" She asked.

"I was just going to say, you could eat with us if you wanted." Draco tried hard to act casual, and Lane could tell what he wanted. Pansy Parkinson had been giving him the cold shoulder all day. He was looking to make her jealous. Lane wanted no part of it; she'd had enough cat fights for her liking.

"I don't think I will. After all, I do have that detention at seven." Lane yawned.

"Who's it with?" Draco asked, mildly curious.

"Aren't you a bit nosy?" Lane asked, chuckling. "But, for your information, it's with Filch."

Draco grimaced. "I'm sorry." He said, remembering his own detentions with Filch in his first year. Draco moved his sleeve to check an expensive looking watch on his slender wrist. "Almost dinner time."

"Hmmm." Lane picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet from the coffee table. She was killing time, waiting for him to leave.

"Well, see you around, then." Draco stood up, feeling the coldness emanating from Lane. Lane watched as Draco retreated from the common room. The large black grandfather clock chimed a few times. It was 6:45. Time to go bother Filch.

The sound of her shoes echoed against the cold stone walls of the corridor. She found Filch's office and knocked on the door. He opened it and grimaced. "Fix your uniform." He grumbled, staring at her open shirt. She buttoned the buttons and straightened her tie.

"Hmph." She pouted. He thrust a bucket full of Magical Mess Remover and a scrub brush at her.

"Good old fashioned elbow grease is what you'll be using missy." He grinned, showing several aged, yellowed teeth.

"Fine by me." She said.

"Give me your wand. You will get it back when I deem your work satisfactory." Lane forked over her wand reluctantly.

"Let's go." He said, ushering her out of his office. They walked in silence to the first floor girl's lavatory. "To make sure you don't pull anything, I'm going to watch you." He placed a "Closed for Cleaning" sign on the door. "Get to work."

Lane rolled up the sleeves of her uniform and dunked the scrub brush into the cleaning solution. She bent over, making sure to stick her bum in the air where Filch could clearly see it. She scrubbed in slow, concentric circles, making sure to get all the marks off of the walls. "Like this?" She cooed.

Filch gulped. "Y-y-yes." He stammered. "Just like that."

Lane made sure to get the front of her shirt wet. Her black lace bra showed through. "Oh, no!" She cried. "I'm all wet!" She turned around to show Filch. "Look at that!" Filch stared for a bit, then mentally shook himself.

"I think you're finished." Filch said, looking at the wall up and down. "Don't do it again." He admonished.

"Oh, I won't." She smirked. "Mr. Filch." He picked up the bucket and the scrub brush. Lane followed him to his office.

"What do you want, Miss Dappleport?" He demanded.

"I'd like to have my wand back, Mr. Filch, if you don't mind." Lane sat down in the chair across from his desk. She crossed her legs again, waiting. Filch rifled through his desk drawer.

"Here you go." He handed it to her. She reached for it, touching his hand softly.

"Why do you do it?" She breathed.

"Why do I do what?" He demanded, staring into her honey gold eyes.

"Give so many detentions. Do you enjoy torture? Are you a sadist? Or are you just lonely?" Her voice purred. She stood up. "If you are, I must say, I know how you feel, Mr. Filch… My whole life, I've known exactly how you feel." She leaned forward to breathe these words into his ear. And with that, she left, leaving him to sit and think about this lovely creature, so wild and untamed, yet so gentle.


	3. Chapter 3

Lover's Lane Chapter 3

"Ms. Dappleport?" A sinuous voice called. It was none other than Snape. She looked up and met the fiery gaze of the potions master. Here it comes, she thought. "Why didn't you return to Potions yesterday?" His foot tapped the stone floor impatiently, and motioned for her to follow him to a more secluded hallway. "Ms. Dappleport, I demand an explanation."

"Well, if you really must know," She began, not enjoying the undivided attention of the professor one bit. "I was lost." She lied. "After all, I am a new student, and when I asked Peeves to kindly show me which direction the dungeons lie, he pointed me to the boys' lavatory." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "And by then, it was time for the next period. Punish me if you will, sir, but I believe I'm being punished enough by Mr. Filch, sir."

Snape's eyebrows raised. "Oh? And how is that?"

"Peeves fibbed and told him I had written swear words and drawn rude pictures all over the girls' loo. And then he gave me a detention last night to clean it off. And now I have six more days of detention with him to boot!"

Snape appraised her carefully. "Very well. Continue serving your detentions with Mr. Filch, and we will consider this matter finished. However, I would suggest for you to invest in a map, and not to rely on the advice of a poltergeist up to no good. I trust you know where your next class is located?"

Lane nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then get there." He walked away, cape flowing behind him.

Lane giggled. So easy.

That night, Lane was to be Filch's secretary, helping him sort and file the disciplinary records of the students. Their names were magicked off, so as to protect their anonymity. Filch sat at his desk stroking his cat, barking orders on where everything should go.

"Not there, Ms. Dappleport. Can't you see it goes in with "Janitorial?"

"Begging your pardon, _sir, _I must have misread it." Lane bent over the file cabinet, stretching out her perfect, shapely legs for him to ogle. She felt the burn of his gaze on the backs of her knees. She flipped her hair as she straightened back up, and closed the drawer with her heel.

"I-I-I'm not quite sure your skirt is regulation length, Ms. Dappleport." Filch stammered.

"Oh? We bought them all at Madam Malkin's. I must have gotten taller." She said, in her innocent, breathy way.

He stood up and walked behind her. "On your knees!" He ordered.

"Mr. Filch! I never, in my life-" Lane pretended to be shocked.

"I'm going to measure from your hem to your knees, missy." Lane obliged and got on her knees. Filch procured a ruler from a desk drawer and proceeded to measure. His hand brushed her bare thigh more than once, and she expected him to go into cardiac arrest any moment. "Half an inch too short. I will let it slide, this once." He put away the ruler. "Are you finished with "Writing Sentences" yet?"

"Yes, sir. It was the last pile." Lane put away the scroll. "Ouch! Gods be damned!" She immediately put her finger in her mouth without thinking. An audible gulp was heard from Mr. Filch. "I've given myself a paper cut!" She sucked on her finger lasciviously, enjoying the taste of her blood on her tongue.

"I have a b-bandage..." Filch rifled through his desk for a muggle style bandage. He ripped the back off and wrapped it around her injured digit.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch. You're my hero." She was sure he never expected to hear those words from a student before, and the blush that spread across his pallid cheeks confirmed that.

"You may go now, Ms. Dappleport. Remember, same time tomorrow." Filch did not get up to walk her out. Lane suspected the reason, but said nothing and left.


	4. Chapter 4

Lover's Lane Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I am not writing this story for profit, it is for entertainment purposes only. These characters/places/things depicted are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

She stared intently at the back of his head, willing it to set fire. The closest she got was smoke. Unfortunately, people notice when heads are smoking. And so her fun was ruined. Pansy Parkinson patted his head with the sleeve of her robe, breaking her concentration. Snape looked absolutely furious. "What is going on here?"

"Sir, Draco's hair was catching fire."

Snape's gaze traveled to Lane. "Lane, do you have any idea how this could have happened?"

"Perhaps he was standing to close to the cauldron, sir." Snape seemed to approve of her answer, and peered into her cauldron. "Keep up the good work, Dappleport." He returned to the front of the room. Draco spun around to eye Lane.

"Too close to the cauldron, huh?" He asked. Lane's face looked completely innocent.

"I wasn't paying attention to your head, I'm sorry. I have a potion to create." Pansy's eyes were cold.

"Why are you talking to _her,_ Drake baby?" Draco shrugged her hand off of his shoulder.

"I think you did it." He said. He leaned forward to the horror of Pansy, and whispered into her ear, "And I think I know why." Lane's small face went fire engine red instantly. She reared back her hand, and slapped him full across the face, to the appreciation of the Gryffindors.

"I gave you your answer the other day. Maybe now you'll learn your lesson. Go on, Draco, your lap dog is waiting." Snape heard the snickers coming from the back of the room and came to investigate. "Sir, Mr. Malfoy here refuses to leave me alone, no matter how much I try to put him down lightly." Snape nodded, and instructed her to clear her things.

"Why don't you move your cauldron to the front of the room, so you can show the other students how to make their potions properly?"

Lane moved her cauldron to the front of the dungeon, and began pouring her potion into the vial. When class let out, she was the first one out of the door. Now was the calm before the storm, and she was expecting the wrath of Pansy to befall her. She met her in the girls lavatory as she was washing her hands.

"Hey, teacher's pet!" Pansy called. "I know what you're trying to do."

"And just what would that be?" Lane demanded, spinning to face Pansy.

"You want my man. You're trying to take him from me, aren't you?"

"No. I don't want your man, and if you weren't such a cold fish, maybe he wouldn't be roaming!" Lane bent over and pretended to pick something up off of the floor. "Oh, I almost forgot. Here's your face." Lane stormed out of the bathroom, angry at herself for letting her guard down, and being a good girl. She'd have to shake the teacher's pet rep she was building for herself if she ever wanted any kind of cred.

Later that night, she wound up being five minutes late for detention. Filch scowled as she bounced through the door. "You're late." He growled. Lane glanced up at the clock. Ugh. Now what? Filch tried to maintain eye contact, but his gaze kept slipping lower. She knew her shirt was unbuttoned and her tie was loose once more.

"What's my detention today, sir?" She asked, pushing her hair out of her face.

"You are going to be polishing every metal surface in my office, and then every wooden surface as well. I want this office spotless." Filch handed her a bucket of rags and a can of metal polish and a can of wood polish. "I'm going to go do rounds. I'll be back to check on you."

"Yes sir." Lane took the cleaning supplies, and Filch picked up his lantern. He clicked his tongue and Mrs. Norris followed on his heels.

Fifteen minutes into her punishment, Professor Snape came by. "Dappleport, what are you doing?"

"I'm polishing Filch's wood." She replied calmly. The answer took Snape by surprise, and Lane fought to hold back a laugh. "After that, I'm supposed to polish his knob." She pointed to the elaborate door knob on the heavy wooden door of his office.

Snape coughed. "I see." Snape ducked out of the office, presumably to go locate Filch. Filch returned several hours later. Lane had finished way before, and had fallen asleep on a settee. He couldn't resist stroking the soft, pink cheek as she slept soundly. Lane awoke, but lay still, pretending to be in a deep sleep. Feeling bolder, Filch let his fingers travel downwards, toward her small, warm neck, and then to the pay dirt, her perky, round breasts. He pulled his hand back and stood up quickly.

"Wake up! Your time is up. Go to your dormitory, and be here on time tomorrow!" Lane sat up groggily, and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

"Yes, sir." She said, and left, grinning inside the whole time.


End file.
